


no one more soothing

by grosskaneki



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: ?? maybe, Anxiety, Comfort, Cuddling, Desperation, Embarassment, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I guess???, M/M, Omorashi, Pants wetting, Wetting, hide is an angel, ive risen from the dead, lots of comfort, theres piss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 12:21:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11036100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grosskaneki/pseuds/grosskaneki
Summary: Kaneki deeply, deeply regrets signing up for a three-hour class right after he normally eats lunch, especially since he isn't allowed to leave to use the restroom. Hide, of course, is there to help.





	no one more soothing

**Author's Note:**

> Guess Who Rose From The Dead To Write More Garbage (its me)

It was two hours into Ms. Suzuki's pre-finals Classic Literature lecture, and Kaneki Ken was uncomfortable.

It wasn't just the "the professor keeps it freezing cold in here but it's too hot out for a jacket" discomfort, or the "I've been writing nonstop for two hours straight and my wrist is killing me" discomfort, or the "I haven't moved once since this class began and all my limbs are stiff" discomfort, though Kaneki was experiencing all of those as well. No, this was an uncomfortable sense of tightness and urgency in his lower stomach, the inability to stop fidgeting in his seat, the anxious way he was tugging on the hem of his shirt, and an inability to focus due to his brain insistently repeating one painfully obvious, ridiculously unhelpful thought.

_I need to go to the bathroom..._

Kaneki bore down so hard on the paper that the tip of his mechanical pencil lead broke off, wishing that he could just disregard his need and focus. It was an important lecture, after all; it was his last class before the final exam, and the usually quite lenient professor had made it clear that there would be no breaks, absences or excusing oneself. A three-hour class dedicated entirely to classic literature sounded like heaven to Kaneki at the beginning of the year, but now he was rather regretting signing up, especially for the class that took place right after he normally ate lunch, with no time to slip away to relieve himself in between.

No matter how hard he tried to singlemindedly focus on the professor and what she was writing, the thought from earlier repeated itself on loop in the back of his head— _I need to go, I really need to go, please, please, I have to go so bad_ —almost as if he was begging himself to leave and empty his uncomfortably full bladder. But he couldn't, he reminded himself—literally, he _couldn't_ , nobody was allowed to leave during this class. Kaneki supposed it was his own fault for signing up for such a long class and not having the foresight to realize that this might eventually happen, but there was nothing he could do about it now.

Chewing on his lip, he glanced at the wall clock. 2:03...there was a little less than half an hour left until class ends. He could hold it that long, can't he? He was a college student, a grown adult. He should be able to hold his bladder that long.

He was going to have to, he decided, and he threw himself into listening to the lecture and taking notes to distract himself for the time being.

"The first Dictionary of the Academy merely defined a classical author as 'a much-approved ancient writer, who is an authority as regards the subject he treats.' The Dictionary—"

— _I have to go, I have to go to the bathroom—_

"—and gives precision and even limit to its rather vague form. It describes classical authors as those 'who have become models in any language', and in all the articles which—"

_—I have to go so bad, please, I really need to go, I can't hold it—_

"—fixed rules for composition and style, strict rules of art to which men must conform, continually recur. That definition of classic was evidently—"

A spurt of urine dampened his underwear.

Kaneki panicked almost immediately and barely stifled a gasp, snapping his thighs together, his entire body going tense. His breathing was shallow and quick, and he was suddenly shaking like a leaf. How had that _happened_? Was he just not paying enough attention to holding his bladder?

He considered slipping a hand between his legs to prevent future slip-ups, then felt his face heat up at just the thought—he was in a crowded lecture hall, after all. Deciding to settle for crossing his legs and hyperfocusing a little less on the class, Kaneki changed position, doing his best to outwardly look like someone who was _not_ desperately trying not to wet himself.

He returned to taking notes, mentally letting the words flow right from his brain to the paper—he needed to devote quite a bit of mental energy to keeping himself under control. Fidgeting where he sat, he shifted position to sit on one of his feet and glared accusingly at the half-empty water bottle on his desk.

Kaneki flicked his attention back to the notes he was taking. The professor had gotten herself distracted and was going on a long tangent about her favorite classic, so he had a few moments to check his work...

_• Classic author defined as one who I need to use the bathroom_

Kaneki turned a _violent_ shade of red and crumpled up the paper, not caring about the other notes. Had he really been so distracted by his bladder that he'd written his thoughts? God, this was so embarrassing. He squirmed in his seat, biting back a whimper, wishing he didn't feel like this. Not here, not now, not without Hide...

The girl sitting beside him gave him an odd look, and he shook himself. Right... crowded lecture hall. His face heated up further, and he glanced up at the wall clock to distract himself. There were around ten minutes left; Kaneki could make it that long, couldn't he?

A wave of desperation washed over him, and he audibly whimpered, shoving a hand between his legs on reflex, shaking, feeling like his cheeks were burning. Oh, god, what if he couldn't hold it? His bladder already felt so unbearably full that he wanted to cry, and he could feel eyes on him as he shook and squirmed, trying to keep it in.

He knew enough about classic lit, he decided. Right now, he was going to focus on not wetting himself in class.

Kaneki shut his notebook, taking a shaky breath and crossing as legs as tight as he possibly could. His gaze flicked back to the clock. Eleven minutes. Eleven minutes left of keeping himself under control, and then he could leave and use the bathroom. A memory drifted up from the back of his mind, something about agreeing to meet Hide after class, but he shook it away; he could talk to Hide after he relieved himself. He moved to sit on his other foot, bouncing where he sat, thanking whoever was out there to listen that his chair didn't squeak.

Eight minutes. Kaneki was whining openly now; he couldn't help it. All he could do to keep himself quiet was keep a hand over his mouth, but that was one less hand he could use to hold himself back... At this point, he was so desperate it hurt to move, and he doubted he could make it to a restroom even if he could endure the rest of the hellishly long class. Anyone looking at him could immediately tell how bad his need was, and he wanted to curl up and die. He could only think of how much he must have been bothering the girl next to him with his bouncing and squirming and whimpering.

Six minutes. Hopeless. It was hopeless. Kaneki had leaked again, even though he'd focused every ounce of his dwindling energy on holding it. He'd barely managed to hold on, only getting himself back under control with a loud, embarrassing, gasp-y moan that made him want to crawl under his desk, if he had still possessed the ability to move. The professor showed no signs of being finished with the discussion, so he was even more stuck. He whimpered again, louder, as another long spurt leaked out, one that took nearly three seconds to cut off but offered him absolutely no relief. His bladder felt taut against his waistband, and it genuinely worried him; he was certain he'd never needed to go so badly in his entire life. Anxiety had never helped his bladder, and the eyes he felt on him and was desperately trying to block out only made matters worse for him. A few minutes ago, he'd disregarded Hide as a distraction, but now, Kaneki thought he'd do anything for another person who cared for him to come help him, to take him away from this nightmare.

Kaneki's socks felt wet. He let out a nearly inaudible sob.

Four minutes were left in class now, and Kaneki was surprised the professor hadn't noticed his obvious agony by this point, because it seemed like everyone else had. He shook and squirmed uncontrollably in his seat, leaking vigorously, pale and sweating, his face beet-red and his hands permanently glued between his legs. He felt sick, shaky, terrified, all which only amplified the unbearable desperation until he knew he couldn't hold it another second longer.

Kaneki heard voices informing him of what was going on before he himself became aware of his own body. It was almost as if he'd blocked out everything he felt in a last-ditch effort to protect himself, but sensations still trickled in:

_"...What's that smell?"_

_"Ew, oh my god..."_

_...the sound of flowing, dripping,_ gushing _liquid, his own trembling, relieved whimpering..._

_"Did he just piss himself?"_

_"What the fuck, aren't we in college?"_

_...the feeling of tears dripping down his cheeks, darkness as he pressed his face to the desk, trying to block it all out..._

_"Can someone call a janitor in here?"_

_"...can't believe he couldn't hold it for a few more measly minutes..."_

Kaneki sobbed, curling up in his chair as his bladder emptied involuntarily, spilling its contents uncontrollably. Urine soaked his clothes, pooling under him and dripping onto the floor, and what relief—what incredible, long-needed relief—he felt was overwhelmed by the feeling of crushing panic that flattened his entire body as he lost control and wet himself. Everyone was looking at him, everyone was making fun of him, everyone hated him... It was too much, too much for him to handle, but his bladder wasn't finished emptying, and it forced him to endure the feeling of piss gushing into his clothes and soaking him completely for what felt like an eternity. By the time he was finally empty, he felt too dizzy and sick to his stomach to be aware of anything at all, really.

"Yo, Kanekiii~!"

Kaneki barely flinched, his brain fuzzying the sounds and confusing him. Hide...? Was that Hide, or just his ears picking up the harsh chatter that seemed to surround him incorrectly?

"...Kaneki?"

He flinched, wanting to hide from whoever was approaching him. Kaneki was disgusting, disgraceful. He didn't deserve any help.

But then... then, a voice reached his ears, a voice so soothing and gentle he thought for sure it must have been his guardian angel. "Kaneki... oh, my poor 'neki, you poor thing..." it cooed softly, the words embracing him like a soft blanket, slowing his uncontrollable trembling. A warm, strong pair of arms wrapped around him, and he clung to them, breathing hard and heavy as he was gently lifted up and carried away from this horrible, horrible situation.

"It's alright, you're safe, everything's okay, I've got you, it's all gonna be okay" sustained him as he was carried from place to place, but he was still too scared to open his eyes to see who he knew was Hide, his warm, kind eyes full of worry. Something was being wrapped around him, and he accepted it, cuddling closer to his savior.

Eventually, he was taken inside and through a series of doors, and a certain sense of security greeted him as he was taken through the final set. He opened his eyes tentatively, and, sure enough, there was Hide, missing his signature duck yellow jacket, his expression creased with concern. He'd carried Kaneki all the way to his dorm and wrapped him in his favorite coat to cover him up, and Kaneki's heart ached, feeling that there was no way he deserved so much kindness.

He barely had the chance to croak out a "I-I'm sor—" before he was embraced again, rocked in a soothing back-and-forth motion.

"Shh, it's not your fault. Just an accident, you didn't do anything wrong. Nothing at all," Hide cooed softly, and Kaneki hung onto the words like a lifeline. "I love you so much, it's all gonna be okay. You're wonderful, Kaneki, I love you. Everything's gonna be alright. You're safe, I've got you, I'm gonna take care of you, okay? You don't need to worry about a thing. Not a thing. Everything will be okay." His voice was so impossibly caring and kind, and Kaneki found himself pressing closer to its source, who was now gently, gently stroking his fingers through Kaneki's hair. He'd never felt more reassured, never calmed down so quickly, and he almost wanted to cry again at how undeserving he felt of Hide's infinite warmth.

He stayed there a few more minutes, just curled up in Hide's arms, trying to regulate his breathing, until he eventually pulled back and gave a hoarse, whispered "thank you" to his wonderful, wonderful boyfriend, who had plucked him from panic with perfect timing and brought him back down to earth.

"It's no problem, no worries at all," Hide purred in reply, gently rubbing Kaneki's back. "I'm gonna run you a bath, alright? With everything you like in it, all those bubble baths and soaks and salts. It'll be wonderful," he murmured.

Kaneki felt himself believing it, felt himself relaxing as he was carried to the bathroom. Hide was so caring and thoughtful, so loving and warm; he always knew just what to do to help Kaneki, to care for him and soothe him in all the right ways. He watched, almost calmly, as Hide carefully ran and tested the water for his bath, thinking to himself that he couldn't remember a time he'd been luckier to have Hide by his side.

**Author's Note:**

> yes I know it's self indulgent I'm trying my best please leave feedback or ill wither


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